Subject: Media
"Merida" by Hollie McNish
I know this is not the most important thing and no one's gonna die from it
But this little change to me sums up the messages that Disney gives
Where curls must all be straight or glossy
Despite the years the filmers took
To get the wildness of that hair the girl who dares to climb up mountains
Wailing winds to bravely follows willow wisps
And couldn't give two ticks
How her hair looked
While she's doing it
But now they combed out all those bits
And she looks more like a shampoo ad
Hair tossed back and shoulders slack
Looking sweetly back at us
And it is not the most important thing to fuss about, and no no one's gonna die
And if you do not like it then yes of course you do not have to buy
But I think it's also right to stand up to million dollar companies
Who feel some weird need to make cartoon girls look sexy
And I know it's just a drawing and you say
It doesn't matter how a drawing looks
But my three years old's been making bows and arrows in the woods
And says this Merida is standing still cos she can't move in her tight dress
And her hair can't be a mess and her bow is a now a shiny belt clipping in a stick thin waist
And her face more made up, with sexy eyelined eyes and gaze and smile
And you have made it all about her style
Sexified another child
And like every other Disney princess made her wider eyed with shyer smiles
As Tinkerbells sticks out her bum some more
Your Merida is now a bore
And doesn't aim bows anymore
And cannot have a wider jaw
And needs to have a body morph
And look coyly at the camera
I find it an embarassment
And I know that no one's gonna die
But still we need to challenge it
Because it's all a little messy
Where even fairies must look sexy
And every girl must be a beauty
Bat her eyes and shoulders cutely
And if the movie was a hit, then your marketing is stupid
'Cos you had a whole new audience of Merida loving mummies
But your weird need to sex her up has lost you all our money
Explanation: This poem is about the controversy surrounding how Disney changed how Merida from the movie Brave looked for the products. She was created to be a princess who was independent (the premise of the movie was that suitors pining for her hand in marriage had to have an archery competition to determine who would "get" her, but she ended up having a better shot than any of them, so she could choose for herself who she wanted to marry.) Disney, however, decided that Merida products would sell better if she were prettier and more docile, which sends the wrong message to young girls. The poet is saying that she understands that it's not a life or death situation for anyone, but it's still important to challenge it and stand up for what's right. She uses assonance in this poem, and she does in most of her work. The poem itself is allusion, referencing a character from a movie.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Cupcakes or Scones" by Hollie McNish
They queue up
Frost or snow
On Saturday nights
Long socks or stockings and jumpers and ties
Badges and rucksacks and laces and lies
Tell me
Why is the school disco our most popular club night?
In England, this is a number one weekend retreat
Lines of over-eighteens dressed like sexy thirteens
Standing in school skirts as men get aroused
At the thought of these naughty girl uniformed crowds
Oy, oy, girls
He shouts
I don't get it
I remember the warnings
Gates closed at lunch 'cos this pervert was stalking us
And two of my friends had already been flashed
As they walked home from school
And I'd noticed a van
At the corner
Up the road
A guy at the window
Tongue between fingers
Whistling blows
Signing me blowjobs
As I stood in my school clothes
Upping the pace
I sprint down the road
Scared witless
Now
Thirteen years later
You want me to wear
The same uniform then to turn on grown men's stares
The school disco club night, we come in our hoards
Get low with a school girl without breaking laws
So I can getting chatted up by some dribbling men
Who like looking at me looking like I looked in year ten
I don't get it
I'd rather dance dressed like a woman
And if I wanna look sexy, I wanna look like a woman
I'd rather be chatted up as a woman
And if I make perverts stare, then they should stare at a woman
'Cos I like being a woman
I am not a little girl
And years passing by aren't the end of the world
And my life as a woman is the best that it's been
And I like being me, I don't wanna be sixteen again
Worrying about school tests and coolness and spots
I don't want to wear my school skirt or flirt in my popsocks
As I'm told everyday to obsess back to then
But I'd rather live life as a woman
Still I see them
In lines
On Saturday afternoons
Sitting with friends in modern new tea rooms
The cupcake is back
This is baking's new black
Pastel shade icing
And sprinkles on stacks
The new female fad
Is jamming up Twitter
Recipes sprinkling candies with glitter
I don't get it
I remember the parties
The last time I ate those, I was still using potties
Grabbing at bowls of soggy chip dippers
Pineapple cheese sticks and soft chocolate fingers
And in the middle of the table, making us sick
Sweet little cupcakes with glittery bits
Now twenty years later
The cupcake is back
As women sit nibbling
Party girl snacks
And I don't really mind cupcakes, I'm just a bit tired
Of every female fad telling me I should still be a child
Wrinkle creams, anti-age, on female shops aisles
Now even our food has copied the styles
Jelly is back, cupcakes are back
And beside all Topshop tills
Are those lollipop stacks
Big bowls of bubble gum
For full grown up mummies
Next to popsocks and cherries
Why not nappies and dummies?
Telling me to be younger, and girly, and sweet,
And quiet, and good and thankful for treats
I don't get it
I'd rather eat food like a woman
And if I wanna meet friends I wanna meet as a woman
I'd rather drink afternoon tea as a woman
Laugh and be happy and free as a woman
'Cos I like being a woman
I'm not a little girl
And years passing by aren't the end of the world
And my life as a woman has been the time of my life
And I like being me, I don't wanna be five again
With cakes held before me as bribes to be good
And fingers grabbing at soggy licked food
As I'm told everyday to obsess to back then
But I'd rather live life as a woman
I don't want to wear popsocks
I'd rather have tights on
I don't want to wear school clothes
I'd rather have mine on
I don't wanna pretend
I know that that time's gone
And I don't really want cupcakes
I'd rather eat scones
Or any damn cake without fairy wings on
And it might be a surprise
But I like being a woman
I like looking like a woman
Dancing, feeling sexy or caressing as a woman
I like eating like a woman
Meeting friends like a woman
Being treated be in peace and being pleased to be a woman
And with each sleep I'm getting older
And only death will stop that
And I can go with it and live or live life looking back
And I can raise my little girl to think her meaning stops at twenty
Dreaming never never land
That ticking clocks are all the enemy
And this little girly culture's kinda helping with that step
School uniform parties, cupcakes, botox, tucks and stress
Obsessed with being 'young' again as if those times were best
As if Alice stayed down that hole and never left again
Frozen in tea party time
Madhatters, mice and children's rhymes
Never women, girls for life
Lollipops and glittered icing
For me that life is not enticing
So just in case you don't hear right I'll say it twice again
I like living life as a woman
I'm looking forward to living life as a women
Explanation: This poem is about how women are expected to act and look younger, which sends the idea that youth is beauty, and anything other than that is not. She uses assonance in this poem as she does in most of her work.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"A Poem About Flo Rida's 'Blow My Whistle'" by Hollie McNish
I don't know about anyone else, but I find this video quite strange
Flo Ride on a bed in the middle of a beach frame
Where he starts off by showing us he's this really good Christian
Next to a chapel on a cliff, before everyone starts all that whistling
And he's wearing white to show he's pure and right, his arms wide out like Jesus Christ
Before he goes around and surrounds himself with these really nice women
And he's so happy, cause it is sunny and everything has gone to plan
And there's a group of lovely looking women and he's the only one hot man
But I wonder if he's worried that those women might be lesbians
On the beach to party and pout at their gay friends
And not because of how they look or the way they move or dance
But how many straight friends do you know that go
And shake their ass at parties with only one guy around?
One strange solitary male who's moved his bed onto a beach
And sits there singing to himself
Unless he's the next Gok Wan, giving us advice
On the summer season's swimsuits, and how to wear them right
And then I think again and see perhaps
Perhaps I got that wrong
Flo Rida's an instructor and there's a new Zumba class going on
And I know this is just a song, I know it's only make believe
It's a really sexy fantasy and every guy's allowed to dream
And Flo Rida has got a heaven where his beach has got a bed
And one by one the women all come along to swim and give him head
And he stands before them like a god of love
Arms stretched like Christ again
And there's some random blokes diving off a cliff into the sea
His friends perhaps, or locals who weren't invited
Cause all the women fancy Flo, who knows
But anyways we're back to the beach and lips up close
And the women want to lick him cause his sweat tastes so damn nice
And he wishes that this perfect scene is how he lived his real life
And as they dance about and everyone is feeling pretty ripe
He starts to sing the chorus, the really important lines
He sings
"Can you blow my whistle baby
Whistle baby
Let me know"
A very clever way of saying he would love a blowjob
Which brings me to the actual thing I find a little odd
And that's the image that this man has used to talk about his knob
As he stands, shirt off, his muscles flexed, in a world of his own make pretend
Where these women aren't all paid to be here
But fancy him and call his phone and groan for him
And he's the dawn
And can film anything he wants
And as the climax comes
The horse rides on
The nightclub chorus nearly moves along
He sings
"Can you blow my whistle?"
A whistle
A tiny thing
And I can't help but laugh
A whistle, a small shiny thing
Which no one needs to learn, cause it's a pretty easy blow
So I don't really think he needs to show us girls
Or start off very slow
And it's hard, I guess, but hardly sexual
A tiny pocket thing
That's mainly blown by men for men
Referees or army sergeant captains
And in a fantasy of orgy dance
Where straight women go to blow his piece
At least choose a metaphor that doesn't fucking squeak
Can you blow my saxophone, maybe
My saxophone, a bigger thing
A saxophone takes practice, and someone does need to show you how to put air in
So Flo Rida's line about teaching us how to do it
Might be sexy with a saxophone as he slowly talks us through it
Cause there are proper mouth techniques to learn, and tongue and hand positionings
And when you learn to learn to blow it perfectly
The tunes
It starts to sing
A sexy
Blues and jazz and funk and proper music
Lover's spunk
That make you wanna stick your ass out
Rub up on a lover's bump
Dance until the moon gets low
And the next day's sun is coming up
Not high pitched squeaking whistles that we use
When someone's just fucked up
To signal something's wrong
Or that a football is offside again
A sound that makes you want the person blowing to be quiet again
And if everybody learned
To touch the way musicians play a saxophone
If everybody learned to move their lips to make their lovers groan
Then Flo Rida might not have an empty bed
But loads of women in
Really licking on his skin
Not just looking at him whistling
And erotic MTV might have a couple better songs to sing
Than come and blow my whistle, baby
I'll show you how to sound it
A thing that jerks and squeaks the second you wrap your lips around it
And makes me long for days when Dead Prez would rap about it
Mind sex and sexy whispers
Not a whistle taking head
Songs that spoke of sex
Not just how to turn on muscle men
Come and blow my whistle
Maybe go and eat her fig first, Flo
She'll show you how to do it
You can start off very slow
Explanation: This poem is about the song "Whistle" by Flo Rida. The poet starts by using imagery to set the scene of the music video and make the reader realize the absurdity of it. She continues by using assonance to swiftly destroy any credibility this song may have held. She also presents several points of how our culture and media have changed.
I know this is not the most important thing and no one's gonna die from it
But this little change to me sums up the messages that Disney gives
Where curls must all be straight or glossy
Despite the years the filmers took
To get the wildness of that hair the girl who dares to climb up mountains
Wailing winds to bravely follows willow wisps
And couldn't give two ticks
How her hair looked
While she's doing it
But now they combed out all those bits
And she looks more like a shampoo ad
Hair tossed back and shoulders slack
Looking sweetly back at us
And it is not the most important thing to fuss about, and no no one's gonna die
And if you do not like it then yes of course you do not have to buy
But I think it's also right to stand up to million dollar companies
Who feel some weird need to make cartoon girls look sexy
And I know it's just a drawing and you say
It doesn't matter how a drawing looks
But my three years old's been making bows and arrows in the woods
And says this Merida is standing still cos she can't move in her tight dress
And her hair can't be a mess and her bow is a now a shiny belt clipping in a stick thin waist
And her face more made up, with sexy eyelined eyes and gaze and smile
And you have made it all about her style
Sexified another child
And like every other Disney princess made her wider eyed with shyer smiles
As Tinkerbells sticks out her bum some more
Your Merida is now a bore
And doesn't aim bows anymore
And cannot have a wider jaw
And needs to have a body morph
And look coyly at the camera
I find it an embarassment
And I know that no one's gonna die
But still we need to challenge it
Because it's all a little messy
Where even fairies must look sexy
And every girl must be a beauty
Bat her eyes and shoulders cutely
And if the movie was a hit, then your marketing is stupid
'Cos you had a whole new audience of Merida loving mummies
But your weird need to sex her up has lost you all our money
Explanation: This poem is about the controversy surrounding how Disney changed how Merida from the movie Brave looked for the products. She was created to be a princess who was independent (the premise of the movie was that suitors pining for her hand in marriage had to have an archery competition to determine who would "get" her, but she ended up having a better shot than any of them, so she could choose for herself who she wanted to marry.) Disney, however, decided that Merida products would sell better if she were prettier and more docile, which sends the wrong message to young girls. The poet is saying that she understands that it's not a life or death situation for anyone, but it's still important to challenge it and stand up for what's right. She uses assonance in this poem, and she does in most of her work. The poem itself is allusion, referencing a character from a movie.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Cupcakes or Scones" by Hollie McNish
They queue up
Frost or snow
On Saturday nights
Long socks or stockings and jumpers and ties
Badges and rucksacks and laces and lies
Tell me
Why is the school disco our most popular club night?
In England, this is a number one weekend retreat
Lines of over-eighteens dressed like sexy thirteens
Standing in school skirts as men get aroused
At the thought of these naughty girl uniformed crowds
Oy, oy, girls
He shouts
I don't get it
I remember the warnings
Gates closed at lunch 'cos this pervert was stalking us
And two of my friends had already been flashed
As they walked home from school
And I'd noticed a van
At the corner
Up the road
A guy at the window
Tongue between fingers
Whistling blows
Signing me blowjobs
As I stood in my school clothes
Upping the pace
I sprint down the road
Scared witless
Now
Thirteen years later
You want me to wear
The same uniform then to turn on grown men's stares
The school disco club night, we come in our hoards
Get low with a school girl without breaking laws
So I can getting chatted up by some dribbling men
Who like looking at me looking like I looked in year ten
I don't get it
I'd rather dance dressed like a woman
And if I wanna look sexy, I wanna look like a woman
I'd rather be chatted up as a woman
And if I make perverts stare, then they should stare at a woman
'Cos I like being a woman
I am not a little girl
And years passing by aren't the end of the world
And my life as a woman is the best that it's been
And I like being me, I don't wanna be sixteen again
Worrying about school tests and coolness and spots
I don't want to wear my school skirt or flirt in my popsocks
As I'm told everyday to obsess back to then
But I'd rather live life as a woman
Still I see them
In lines
On Saturday afternoons
Sitting with friends in modern new tea rooms
The cupcake is back
This is baking's new black
Pastel shade icing
And sprinkles on stacks
The new female fad
Is jamming up Twitter
Recipes sprinkling candies with glitter
I don't get it
I remember the parties
The last time I ate those, I was still using potties
Grabbing at bowls of soggy chip dippers
Pineapple cheese sticks and soft chocolate fingers
And in the middle of the table, making us sick
Sweet little cupcakes with glittery bits
Now twenty years later
The cupcake is back
As women sit nibbling
Party girl snacks
And I don't really mind cupcakes, I'm just a bit tired
Of every female fad telling me I should still be a child
Wrinkle creams, anti-age, on female shops aisles
Now even our food has copied the styles
Jelly is back, cupcakes are back
And beside all Topshop tills
Are those lollipop stacks
Big bowls of bubble gum
For full grown up mummies
Next to popsocks and cherries
Why not nappies and dummies?
Telling me to be younger, and girly, and sweet,
And quiet, and good and thankful for treats
I don't get it
I'd rather eat food like a woman
And if I wanna meet friends I wanna meet as a woman
I'd rather drink afternoon tea as a woman
Laugh and be happy and free as a woman
'Cos I like being a woman
I'm not a little girl
And years passing by aren't the end of the world
And my life as a woman has been the time of my life
And I like being me, I don't wanna be five again
With cakes held before me as bribes to be good
And fingers grabbing at soggy licked food
As I'm told everyday to obsess to back then
But I'd rather live life as a woman
I don't want to wear popsocks
I'd rather have tights on
I don't want to wear school clothes
I'd rather have mine on
I don't wanna pretend
I know that that time's gone
And I don't really want cupcakes
I'd rather eat scones
Or any damn cake without fairy wings on
And it might be a surprise
But I like being a woman
I like looking like a woman
Dancing, feeling sexy or caressing as a woman
I like eating like a woman
Meeting friends like a woman
Being treated be in peace and being pleased to be a woman
And with each sleep I'm getting older
And only death will stop that
And I can go with it and live or live life looking back
And I can raise my little girl to think her meaning stops at twenty
Dreaming never never land
That ticking clocks are all the enemy
And this little girly culture's kinda helping with that step
School uniform parties, cupcakes, botox, tucks and stress
Obsessed with being 'young' again as if those times were best
As if Alice stayed down that hole and never left again
Frozen in tea party time
Madhatters, mice and children's rhymes
Never women, girls for life
Lollipops and glittered icing
For me that life is not enticing
So just in case you don't hear right I'll say it twice again
I like living life as a woman
I'm looking forward to living life as a women
Explanation: This poem is about how women are expected to act and look younger, which sends the idea that youth is beauty, and anything other than that is not. She uses assonance in this poem as she does in most of her work.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"A Poem About Flo Rida's 'Blow My Whistle'" by Hollie McNish
I don't know about anyone else, but I find this video quite strange
Flo Ride on a bed in the middle of a beach frame
Where he starts off by showing us he's this really good Christian
Next to a chapel on a cliff, before everyone starts all that whistling
And he's wearing white to show he's pure and right, his arms wide out like Jesus Christ
Before he goes around and surrounds himself with these really nice women
And he's so happy, cause it is sunny and everything has gone to plan
And there's a group of lovely looking women and he's the only one hot man
But I wonder if he's worried that those women might be lesbians
On the beach to party and pout at their gay friends
And not because of how they look or the way they move or dance
But how many straight friends do you know that go
And shake their ass at parties with only one guy around?
One strange solitary male who's moved his bed onto a beach
And sits there singing to himself
Unless he's the next Gok Wan, giving us advice
On the summer season's swimsuits, and how to wear them right
And then I think again and see perhaps
Perhaps I got that wrong
Flo Rida's an instructor and there's a new Zumba class going on
And I know this is just a song, I know it's only make believe
It's a really sexy fantasy and every guy's allowed to dream
And Flo Rida has got a heaven where his beach has got a bed
And one by one the women all come along to swim and give him head
And he stands before them like a god of love
Arms stretched like Christ again
And there's some random blokes diving off a cliff into the sea
His friends perhaps, or locals who weren't invited
Cause all the women fancy Flo, who knows
But anyways we're back to the beach and lips up close
And the women want to lick him cause his sweat tastes so damn nice
And he wishes that this perfect scene is how he lived his real life
And as they dance about and everyone is feeling pretty ripe
He starts to sing the chorus, the really important lines
He sings
"Can you blow my whistle baby
Whistle baby
Let me know"
A very clever way of saying he would love a blowjob
Which brings me to the actual thing I find a little odd
And that's the image that this man has used to talk about his knob
As he stands, shirt off, his muscles flexed, in a world of his own make pretend
Where these women aren't all paid to be here
But fancy him and call his phone and groan for him
And he's the dawn
And can film anything he wants
And as the climax comes
The horse rides on
The nightclub chorus nearly moves along
He sings
"Can you blow my whistle?"
A whistle
A tiny thing
And I can't help but laugh
A whistle, a small shiny thing
Which no one needs to learn, cause it's a pretty easy blow
So I don't really think he needs to show us girls
Or start off very slow
And it's hard, I guess, but hardly sexual
A tiny pocket thing
That's mainly blown by men for men
Referees or army sergeant captains
And in a fantasy of orgy dance
Where straight women go to blow his piece
At least choose a metaphor that doesn't fucking squeak
Can you blow my saxophone, maybe
My saxophone, a bigger thing
A saxophone takes practice, and someone does need to show you how to put air in
So Flo Rida's line about teaching us how to do it
Might be sexy with a saxophone as he slowly talks us through it
Cause there are proper mouth techniques to learn, and tongue and hand positionings
And when you learn to learn to blow it perfectly
The tunes
It starts to sing
A sexy
Blues and jazz and funk and proper music
Lover's spunk
That make you wanna stick your ass out
Rub up on a lover's bump
Dance until the moon gets low
And the next day's sun is coming up
Not high pitched squeaking whistles that we use
When someone's just fucked up
To signal something's wrong
Or that a football is offside again
A sound that makes you want the person blowing to be quiet again
And if everybody learned
To touch the way musicians play a saxophone
If everybody learned to move their lips to make their lovers groan
Then Flo Rida might not have an empty bed
But loads of women in
Really licking on his skin
Not just looking at him whistling
And erotic MTV might have a couple better songs to sing
Than come and blow my whistle, baby
I'll show you how to sound it
A thing that jerks and squeaks the second you wrap your lips around it
And makes me long for days when Dead Prez would rap about it
Mind sex and sexy whispers
Not a whistle taking head
Songs that spoke of sex
Not just how to turn on muscle men
Come and blow my whistle
Maybe go and eat her fig first, Flo
She'll show you how to do it
You can start off very slow
Explanation: This poem is about the song "Whistle" by Flo Rida. The poet starts by using imagery to set the scene of the music video and make the reader realize the absurdity of it. She continues by using assonance to swiftly destroy any credibility this song may have held. She also presents several points of how our culture and media have changed.